


85 percent

by theothardus



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Adventure & Romance, F/M, Honeymoon, Just Married, Post-Canon, Xing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-07-28 07:43:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16237214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theothardus/pseuds/theothardus
Summary: During their honeymoon, Ed and Winry travel to Xing. However, with travel comes many dangers.





	1. Teamwork

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to post this by 10/3 (FMA Day), but it's a balance I can't achieve between writing and my studies, heh. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!

A yellow sign was covered in moss and hovering insects, blatantly begging hikers to read it. Winry squinted her eyes, as though that would help her translate the worn out Xingese lettering. The symbols were in bold, so she assumed it was an important message. Her newlywed husband was stumped by it as well.

Edward spoke up before her, calling to their guide, “Hey!” He pointed to the sign. “Should we be goin’ this way?”

The “guide” Ling appointed to them, a middle-aged man who was supposed to be a translator but hardly knew five words of Amestrian, was marching forward into the bogs without a second thought. A smile never left his withered face. Literally, never. Ed and Winry were beginning to think that it wasn’t just him being friendly, but instead a nervous breakdown.

He nodded with enthusiasm, repeatedly assuring, “It’s OK!”

Winry pushed further, “Could you tell us what this says?”

“Huhhh…” The guide groaned, letting his smile lower only slightly as he backed up to read it. “ _Liu sha_.”

Then, his mouth opened open wide into a voiceless laugh, foot digging into the slimy soil, as if to imitate something. “ _Liu sha!_ It’s OK!”

With that, the guide continued down the imaginary path.

“Wait!” Ed called out to him, though the man didn’t seem to hear. “What does that mean?!”

Ed and Winry exchanged looks, Ed more skeptical with Winry trying to be reassuring. They should trust his judgement. Right?

The air smelled of something foul; it was probably the decaying matter in the peat that covered everything for miles. What a romantic venture. Credit where credit was due, however, because the place really wasn’t bad on the eyes. In the distance, the bogs were lined with narrow, pointed mountains that were nothing like the ones of Resembool, dome-shaped at the peak and probably too smooth to climb. Fog blanketed the mountains and parts of land, dimming the sunlight, but the sky was still a rich blue.

“I thought I got enough of these questionable hikes with Darius and Heinkel,” Ed grunted, trudging through the muddy terrain. “That damn emperor. Leading us on this goose chase just for some free place to stay.”

The guide, ways ahead of them, stuck up his thumb and said for the twentieth time, “Emperor good!”

Alongside Ed, Winry added, “I’m sure it’ll be worth it. And knowing Ling, the food will probably be the best.”

Winry was glad she dressed for the occasion. She wasn’t sure how weather tended to be in Xing, but she knew that if they were going to be hiking around, she would have to go for sturdy ankle boots instead of anything open-toed she usually toted in Resembool. Her pants were a dark shade of brown, so they probably wouldn’t show much dirt, although she couldn’t say the same of her button up dress shirt, snugly tucked into her pants. She had to roll up her sleeves a while back; the temperatures were moderate, but moving for hours kept her body heat up. Ed did the same with his sleeves, having put his coat into his bag a while ago. He admired her clothing too, as form fitting over her figure as it was, but always caught himself from staring too long. Those pants did hug her bottom nicely, though.

Ed heard a grumble deep in his belly, taking his thoughts off the woman. He grabbed his abdomen and said, “Speaking of food, I’m gonna need some.”

Winry looked over at him. “You should have ate more than a piece of bread this morning.”

His eye twitched at her bringing up what they had been fighting about earlier. “I told you, we needed to get on the road.”

“And I told _you_ that you were going to get grumpy because you’d get hungry halfway there.”

“I’m not grumpy!” Ed snapped, grumpily.

In perfect timing, a loud, unknown insect darted around his ear. He roughly swatted his neck, but the bastard got away. Irate, Ed grunted through his teeth.

Winry pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh at him, as that would only make his mood worse. As he picked up his pace, walking a foot or so ahead of her, she stared down at the bare half of his arms. They were tense, she could tell, the muscle pushing out a prominent vein. The sight gave her a special feeling below her belly button.

She blew off that feeling, asking him instead, “How’s your leg?”

“Ok I guess,” Ed muttered, hands stuffed in his pockets.

Admittedly, his automail leg was bound to bother him if he walked on it for hours. It was just too much for the port attached to his stump. He has been traveling on foot for years, so this was nothing new. He wasn’t used to traveling with his mechanic, however, who constantly inquired about his automail. Ed has never been more persistent with self-maintenance during travel; Winry made sure of that.

She swatted a nat out of her face, which was the only relatively normal insect she’s seen this far in Xing. Unfortunately, Ed was getting the worst of it, insects of all different sizes and colors buzzing around his personal space. Poor guy.

Winry didn’t notice that her whole foot was sinking into a particularly soft area of mud. She squeaked, caught off guard, almost falling off balance as she tried to pull it out. Mid-swat, Ed heard her and turned around. He reached out to grab her wrists, holding her steady.

“Don’t be a klutz,” he stated, simply.

Annoyed by that comment, Winry frowned. “I’m not a klutz, it was that mud over there!”

“Uh huh. Sure.” Ed placed his hand on her back, gesturing for her to go in front of him.

As they continued walking, the fog seemed to be getting thicker. The air seemed to get fouler. The mud was getting stickier. It was so disgustingly humid that the couple knew they would need a change of clothes when they got to their supposed destination. Speaking of which, Winry was losing her faith in Ling. She couldn’t help but wonder if their guide really knew the area, because she didn’t see any buildings in sight, just fog. Eager to find out, she didn’t even notice how speedily she proceeded in front of Ed.

Ed took another step. Once his foot landed, something seemed… odd. The left half of his body was gradually becoming unleveled with his right, which made him realize he was sinking. Using his right foot as leverage, he managed to yank himself out of the soft ground. This terrain was becoming increasingly difficult to walk through, and the density of his metal limb wasn’t helping.

A few steps later, another “hole” greeted the sole of his shoe. Ed grunted, his patience running short. He attempted to yank his left side away, but this time, it was his automail side, so it wasn’t easy. He hopped his flesh foot forward, using it as leverage. No success. In fact, it only made things worse, because now both of his feet were sinking. There he was, stuck in a wide-legged pose, as though he were a statue ready for battle.

At this point, he was teetering his upper body back and forth, hoping he would worm his way out. It wasn’t until he saw the last of his shoes disappear into the earth that he realized these were no holes. The more he struggled, the more the earth held him in its bowels. This has to be…

“Quicksand?!” he thought out loud.

“What?” Winry said, absent-minded, not letting the word he yelled register until she turned to see him flailing without feet. “Oh! Oh, Ed!”

She ran back toward him in panic.

Ed barked, “Don’t step in it, you idiot!”

The woman got close enough to grab his hands, barking back, “You’re the idiot! How did you manage to step in quicksand?!”

“Quicksand doesn’t exactly have a sign, you know!”

Just as the words dropped from his mouth, a light bulb went off.  _A sign…_

Ed glared at the guide, who was approaching in more panic than the two of them, speaking in incoherent noises.

“You knew about this!” Edward raged at the man. “That’s what that ‘li-oo’ thing meant!”

The guide just stuttered, still trying to reiterate, “It’s OK! OK!”

In the meantime, Winry was pulling her husband with the force of her body weight. Ed knew she could throw a wrench hard, but he never knew she was this strong. Regardless, it was no use. For every pull, the ground engulfed his body by in inch. His automail was sinking even faster, making the attempt to pull him out even more awkward.

In between sounds of struggle, Winry vented, “Aw, man! You’re going to have to clean so much gunk out of your automail after this!”

Ed looked at her with disbelief, “ _That’s_ what you’re worried about right now?!”

“It’s _your_ hydraulics that’ll get screwed up, not mine!”

By now, Ed was to his knees. Something in Winry changed as she watched him shrink compared to her. She couldn’t hide the smirk or hold back her thoughts.

“Hey.” Humor tickled her voice, knowing full well what his reaction would be, but she couldn’t resist. “You used to be this tall once.”

Ed’s expression went from a rate of five on the angry scale, to a rate of ten. He hasn’t gotten the height comments in a long while, so long that he forgot how agitated they made him.

“ _Who are you calling a--?!”_

Winry was surprised he stopped mid-rant. By looking at another transformation of his expression, she knew why. He had that thinking face he wore when he stared at alchemy books.

Calmly, he instructed her, “Winry, stop pulling.”

She did as she was told, but didn’t let go of his wrists. “Why? What are you thinking?”

If he could transmute he would have bailed himself out of this situation from the beginning, but at least he had his knowledge.

“Quicksand. It’s just a colloid hydrogel.”

Winry’s eyebrow lifted. “A what?”

He continued, “Colloid hydrogel. Quicksand is a hydrophilic substance and the medium and suspension can have different phases, so it should hold a lot of water. It isn’t a Newtonian fluid, meaning, if I apply enough pressure, I should be able to re-introduce the water…”

Winry listened tentatively to the little lesson in physical alchemy. She was able to follow along easily enough, and when she understood where he was going with this, she thanked his cleverness.

Now, Ed was low enough to put in his plan into place. Vigorously, he wiggled his legs back and forth. He leaned back, awkwardly trying to redistribute his weight. From where Winry was standing, he looked like a dork. She stifled back a laugh and ran around him to grab him by his upper arms. Putting all of their weight into it, one final yank accelerated the couple backward.

The back of Edward’s head knocked into Winry’s chest, almost knocking the wind out of her. They both groaned in their landing. Ed opened his eyes, both of which read confusion, especially when he noticed the ground beneath him was warm, soft and curved. Oh, wait, that was his wife, being crunched.

 “Eh,” Ed sounded as he haphazardly turned over. He must have pulled something in his back, because the sharp pain shooting up his spine stopped him from completing the turn. Whatever cushioned his cheek, however, made him feel at ease. Her body sure was soft.

“Urrrrn…. Ed, you’re heavy,” Winry whined.

His neck craned up. He struggled to find her face beyond the two mounds on her chest, and when he realized he was indulging in that part of her body, his cheeks flushed and he jolted upright, ignoring his back pain.

“S—Sorry,” Ed apologized, maybe for crushing her, maybe for the other thing…

On his way up, he helped Winry to her feet. Now, not only were they agitated in the middle of the bogs of a foreign country, but they were filthy with mud.

In the meantime, the guide had been cheering for them, waving a miniature Xingese flag. With that creepy smile plastered over his face again, he led the march forward.

Ed’s fingers entangled around hers, gently tugging her arm. Winry blinked in shock at such a direct gesture.

He sensed her hesitance, looked back at her and said, “I’m not lettin’ you get stuck, either. We’ve gotta have each other’s back out here or we’ll never make it to the damn place.”

She could feel her heart flutter at that, especially the “having each other’s back” part. Just five minutes ago, they were at each other’s throats. Now, they were working as a team. So this was married life, huh?


	2. Contraceptives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are some factors of their relationship that Ed had yet to get used to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got it up! I'm not an expert on Asian culture, so I think I blended some Japanese detail with Chinese, but given Xing is a fictional country I can probably get away with it. Thank you for reading!

Ed observed the wash of colors decorating panels of shoji sliding doors, all of which created a panoramic boundary from the rest of the spa. He could stare for hours and always spot a new detail. Splotches of watery red swam as koi fish, chlorophyll pigments illustrated Xingese mountains, blossoms and the lips of a black-haired maiden were painted with crimson and coral. The walls were warmed with the light from flickering lanterns. Xing was quite behind industrially, and no sign of electricity was only one example.

The futon Ed sprawled out over didn’t have the cushion of an Amestrian bed, but it didn’t bother him in the least, as his full stomach and freshly bathed body brought him sweet relief. He had to give it to Ling; the place he offered for them to shack up in was far from the cave or slum Ed thought would be waiting for them. The hostesses were fairly nice, quick to accommodate when they were greeted by a newlywed couple in muddy clothing at their doorstep.

The more he stared off into space, the more his satisfied bowels churned with unease, keeping him from falling asleep. Winry still wasn’t back from the women’s baths.

Light bounced off his wedding ring, catching his gaze. It was a simple silver band, one which Winry had forged by the same metalsmiths that supplied materials for her and Granny’s automail parts.

He still couldn’t wrap his head around it. Him, a husband. Of his childhood friend and automail engineer, no less. They vowed to share their lives together, to give one another, as Ed humorously quoted her during the ceremony, “85 percent”. This meant Ed had to break the habit of keeping Winry in the dark. This was also why he made the last minute decision to take her to Xing, to show her she could be a part of his journey like Al had been all those years. Actually, it was Al whom pressured them into going. Al knew how happy Winry would be if his brother included her. She is a workaholic, so she would never admit to being okay with leaving her work behind, but it was obvious how much their relationship needed this.

The sound of a sliding door brought Ed’s attention back to Earth. Winry stepped inside, dabbing her wet hair with a towel, body wrapped snug in a white robe. She was silent as she plopped down by his side, exhaling the relief that both of them shared. As she dried her hair she remained upright, gazing down at the man’s shoulder blades.

Winry cut the silence, “It’s nice here.”

“…Yeah,” Ed mumbled, half into the pillow.

She smiled, with a hint of jest, “Honestly I was beginning to worry. I thought we were going to have to sleep in the bogs.”

“Yeah,” he let out a hallow chuckle. “Me too.”

Winry worked her fingers through her hair, catching a few web-like strands and waving her hand to remove them.

She asked, simply, “Did you sanitize your port yet?”

A nervous shiver traveled down Ed’s body. Should he pretend he already fell asleep? No, that won’t work. His lips tugged downward.

“Yeah,” he lied, voice not so complacent this time.

She picked up on that. “Ed. You’re in a foreign country and you were just exposed to a few feet of soil. You know that if you don’t sanitize it, you’ll risk infection.”

He finally turned to her, trying to defend himself as if he were a kid giving excuses to his mother, “But I washed the leg! I rinsed it out and dried it all the way!”

“That won’t matter if you get Staph,” Winry replied.

Ed didn’t say anything, but inside, he was kicking and screaming. He knew Winry wouldn’t let him off the hook.

“Turn over,” she instructed him.

She did not have to say a word; he knew exactly what to do. He rolled over and propped himself up against the wall, making sure to keep his legs unbent. Winry reached for her bag, rummaging through it to pull out antiseptic, cotton swabs, and a pair of gloves. He watched her as she leaned forward and hooked her fingers around the lever that was tucked away between the port and leg. While Ed was used to being in only boxers around her, something about how close she was to his thigh and how her body curled as she leaned over that made his crotch tighten. Admitting that to himself caused his eyes to shift away uncomfortably.

The hum of a bell drew the couple’s attention. Winry remembered being told that knocking on doors was rude in Xing, so other noises were used instead.

“Yes?” she answered.

The door slid open. A woman short in stature was on the other side, with a plastic smile that made Ed think she had to be blood-related to their guide.

She bowed. “Hello. I am your hostess, Shi Un. It is pleasure to meet you.”

Her words were still dancing on a tongue that was used to speaking Xingese, but it was apparent she knew far more of their language than their guide had.

Shi Un continued, “The good emperor brings you gift.”

Two girls pushed a cart into the room. Ed and Winry stared with curiosity.

The woman suddenly gushed, breaking her professional demeanor, “You are cute husband and wife! You will have good time here.”

“Er… thank you,” Winry replied, thinking it odd for such a compliment to come when she is right in the middle of probing her husband’s amputated leg.

Before making their exit, Shi Un and the other hostesses bowed.

The cart they left behind looked like one for a first-course meal, with the apparent gift being hidden under a silver case.

Ed grabbed his stomach, which was still trying to digest enough food to stock a grocery store. “More food? I can eat a lot but Ling doesn’t play around.”

Winry put her gloves to the side to lift the case. Their facial expressions were mirror images, quirking an eyebrow at the peculiar sight. What was revealed? One wrinkled hot pepper, an uncooked egg served on its own special dish, and steam lifting out of a vase-like bottle of a sake, waiting to be poured into porcelain cups.

“What the hell kind of food combination is that?” Ed blurted.

“Don’t be rude,” Winry said. Placing her hand on her chin, she eyed the hot pepper and thought back to Pinako, who loved a few drinks, or twenty. “Maybe the hot pepper is a chaser.”

“And the egg?” the man added.

“Wait,” she said, pulling a folded white paper off the cart. “There’s a letter.”

Ed reached out for it, eager to read. He unfolded it and his eyes began to race down the page. As expected, it was from Ling. There was congratulations, ensuring they would love his country’s food, and…

His racing eyes stopped. “A favor?”

Winry leaned in. “What does it say?”

“Ling’s telling us in order to stay here, we have to do him a favor, and he’ll tell us about it tomorrow. There’s more here…”

Ed kept on reading. All of a sudden, something made his eyes stumble, and they went back over a previous line. His teeth began to grit as though he were irritated, but the blood rushing to his cheeks said otherwise.

He crushed the paper in his grasp, shouting, “That damn prince!”

“He’s an emperor, now,” Winry corrected.

“Whatever! Emperor! Look what that bastard wrote!”

Ed handed over the half-crumpled letter. After skimming through, she found the lines that read:

  _I’m sure you’re wondering about the little gift I gave you. Tianjin peppers are a delicacy from the Torch Dragon, who created day by opening His eyes and night by closing them. The egg is a symbolism of fertility, offered by the goddess of war, sex, and longevity,_ _Jiutian Xuannü. Sake was fermented from the belly of Yidi. When the three come together, it is said to work wonders as a contraceptive. You don’t want to bring more pipsqueaks into the world, after all._

_Have fun, you two lovebirds!_

“—and when I see ‘em, I’m gonna knock his crown right off his head!” Ed hadn’t stopped ranting, which threw off Winry’s initial reaction to Ling’s words.

She pursed her lips to avoid letting a laugh out, but it escaped her nose instead, nearly snorting. He crossed his arms, displeased with her response. He may have been agitated by the pipsqueak comment, but she knew his true source of agitation was the embarrassment of Ling cheerleading him to get laid.

While he was sulking, she figured it was a good time to get started on his port. She re-fitted her hands into gloves and swabbed the crevices of metal with antiseptic. Winry was glad she listened to her gut feeling, because traces of earthy gunk were picked up by the swabs.

“You see this?” Winry said, holding out the evidence.

She always had a weird tendency to show him stuff like this, and Ed wasn’t sure if it was to scare him into being more vigilant about automail maintenance, or if she just was one of those people that likes to clean out ears and show the wax-coated cotton swab so they could see how satisfying the grooming was. Either way, he usually barely glances and gives an “uh huh”.

She spent five more minutes to make sure every nook and cranny was free of microbes and dirt. Anxiety clenched his heart, knowing what was coming before she said it.

“Alright, you ready?”

Edward balled his fists, mentally preparing himself. He could get his automail re-attached one-thousand more times and never get used to the pain, only cope with it better.

Winry carefully aligned the leg with the center of his port. She knew how to mask her disdain for this part as well. It was an unfortunate aspect of being an automail engineer; like a doctor, you help people, but putting them in physical agony was a part of the job, too. When you perform automail surgery, when you guide them through rehabilitation, when you give them advice for the routine aches and pains, and when you re-connect the nerves.

One important lesson as an engineer was ironically learned from a doctor: her father. He told her, “Always wear a brave face, it will make the patient feel brave.”

That was one of her few clear memories of him. He must have learned it from Pinako, as she reiterated the same thing to Winry.

She began to count, “One…”

Ed strangled his adam’s apple in one gulp.

“Two—“

Another important lesson she learned was to never re-attach on three.

In a fraction of a second, Ed’s nerve endings connected to wire, and a rush of synaptic pain was registered by his brain. He clenched his jaw shut to keep from swearing. The bed sheets twisted in his fists. It felt like the room was stretching around him.

Judging from the way his facial features contorted with intensity, then relaxed to a haze, Winry could tell he wanted to pass out. She was quick to react, crawling up to him and carefully taking hold of his shoulders.

“Ed, come here, lay down…” she said to him in a soft voice, making sure to maneuver him slowly.

With half-lidded eyes, he didn’t protest, using her body as an anchor to ground him back to Earth. Sweat beads formed on his forehead and, out of nowhere, he felt like he had to catch his breath. She wrapped her arms around his neck, cradling his head into her chest.

They rested in calm silence for a while. Working through his nausea, Ed kept his eyes shut. It seemed like the older he got, the less resilient he became after nerve attachments, and he was barely nineteen. He could only imagine how he would handle it as an old codger. Thankfully, now he only had one prosthetic instead of two, and he had the best mechanic in the world.

Edward’s crown of gilded hairs tickled Winry’s nose. Maybe it was the warmth he radiated, maybe it was the pheromones, but suddenly she wanted closer to him. Arm curled around his body, her hand slid across his broad chest, palm stopping at the faint beat underneath.

“Feeling okay?” she asked, affectionately.

“Hm,” he answered, reassuring her with a hand on her arm.

Her other hand rested on his bare shoulder, staring intently at the scars that ripped through his skin. She could feel the dents where remnants of automail were surgically removed. Her hand traveled lower, down the slopes of arm muscle, able to name each one if she pulled the knowledge from the back of her mind. When he and his brother came home, she was startled by how gaunt Al’s body and parts of Ed were. Fortunately, in two years time, they regained their strength and then some. Ed picked up a habit of exercise in the morning, even before getting his arm back, but now, his body seemed to pack on muscle more easily, to her secret delight.

Winry scooted down and chose pectoralis major, his chest muscle that ran up into his shoulder, to rest her head on. She circled her finger in sparse strands of gold that stuck out of the pit of his chest. Without thought, he wrapped his arm around her, making sure she stayed secured to his side. He thought it was insane how second nature physical contact became between them. His younger self would have been rigid as a pile of sticks trying to wrap his arms around her. Of course, there were still some factors of being with Winry he had yet to get used to…

Suddenly, Winry planted her chin where her head had been, fixating on him with those big blue eyes that made Ed’s stomach stir. The corners of his mouth dipped nervously.

“What?” he said, replying to her stare with a questioning one.

Deceiving the childlike innocence tucked behind her eyelashes, her smile grew lecherously. “I wonder how effective Ling’s contraceptive is?”

Edward scoffed. “You know better than that, Winry. I wouldn’t trust a Xingese old wives’ tale—“

He was interrupted as Winry slid her body over his, arching her delicate foot with her back leg kicking up, her petite finger continuing to trace circles on his chest.

“What’s wrong?” Ed asked. “Why do you have that look on your face? I’m sure this place has a five-course dessert if that’s what you want…”

Winry’s expression dropped from her seductive intentions. Inwardly, she was slapping her forehead. He was so clueless! He always had been; after the Promised Day, she pined for him for so long, but all of the hints and physical contact flew right over his head. Looks like she would have to take a direct approach.

Her movements were as smooth as a snake, inching in on him until her face met his. Ed’s eyes stayed open, still confused. He enjoyed her lips nonetheless, soft and pouty as they always were. A major barrier of affection was shattered when they first locked lips, two years ago, in a barn in Resembool. Since then, they have become (relatively) less awkward, but the high kisses gave them never subsided. 

Even as their lips slipped apart, they were close enough to exchange breaths. 

All Edward could get out was, “Oh.”

His eyes were bound to her supple mouth, watching it curl into a mischievous smirk. The blonde opened up her robe, shedding it like a second skin. Her cleavage was inviting, light curving over the tops of plump, creamy skin, shadows lining where gravity made them rest. A blend of nerves and joy bubbled up inside of Ed as the robe left the rest of her upper body. Damn, she was so busty.

He had a hard time controlling his appreciation for his wife’s breasts.

Hypnotized, he got out a much lower, “Oh.”

Now his heart was beating in his groin. Mechanically, he placed his hands on her bare hips, where the robe was bunched up. It could have been a romantic gesture, but his palms were sweaty and his movements too robotic. Not to mention what he managed to stutter out next.

“U-Uh. Uhn,” Ed cleared his throat. “Eh, er, Winry…”

 _Damn it. God damn it, you stupid idiot,_ Ed thought. _Did you forget your own language? She’s right here, practically giving herself to you. I hate to admit it, but, sometimes, you have to take Ling’s advice. You have to man up, and… no. We’ve only… done THAT, like two times! I’m not gonna disrespect Winry like that!_

While Ed was getting tangled up in his thoughts, Winry was watching his face, trying to read his mind. The longer he paused, the more it made her unsettled. Why wasn’t he doing anything? Did he not want to? Was she coming on too strong?

 _We have only done… THAT, like twice!_ Winry thought. _I knew I shouldn’t have done this. He’s gonna think I’m a hussy, or something._

Just when he was about to summon a real word, her voice got out a few, making him shut his mouth again.

“Do you not… I’m sorry,” Winry said, going to grab the edges of her robe. “I’m stupid.”

He was caught off guard to see a change in her eyes. They were sad, which made him feel uneasy in a different, much more unpleasant way. His first fear was that she was going to cry, but her bangs hid that from him. This time, in a less robotic fashion, his hands moved to her naked shoulders before she could clothe them.

“No one can call you stupid, not even you, idiot,” Ed said, not realizing the irony in his statement.

Her arms covered her breasts. She looked up, and to his relief, there were no tears in her eyes, but there were no good emotions, either.

Winry said, “I am. Why would I think you want to see my body out of nowhere like that?”

That comment got to him, so much so that his mouth worked faster than his brain. His countenance roughened with irritation.

“What are you talking about?” he said, exasperated. “I love your boobs!”

As soon as he said that, his eyes shot wide open, asking himself what possessed him to actually say how he feels. Her expression was paralyzed with shock as well, cheeks tinted pink. She dropped her arms; Ed’s eyes almost dropped as well when her nipples tugged at his peripherals, but he quickly picked them back up.

 _Man up,_ his subconscious whispered in his ear. _Show her how you feel. Physically. She needs to know._

He wasn’t sure if that was wish of the devil or the angel on his shoulder, but he chose somewhere in between. He placed his hands under her jaw with intent, pulling her in. The alchemist gave her a hard, stiff kiss, yet it was also very loving, making the mechanic swoon. She smiled against his mouth. He felt that and began to smile against hers, too. He released her, the smile remaining.

“You’re sexy as hell, Win,” he asserted, his newfound dominance clear in his tone. “And beautiful, too.”

His fingers caught a front piece of her hair, pale with yellows that made him feel like he had just been out in the sun—content in the warmth of light, happy. Winry could feel his words reverberate in the way he looked at her. He was swimming circles in her oceanic eyes, diving so deep he could reach her Portal of Truth. Even when he wore a red coat and had armor for a brother, if he made the mistake of staring into her eyes, his legs turned to jello.

 “Do you know how long I thought about seeing you like this?” Ed told her. “Longer than I’d like to admit. Now that I get to, you think I’m gonna complain?”

He snaked his arms around her hips, pulling her into a hug. She grasped onto his upper arms and he buried his face into her shoulder.

“I just don’t want to belittle you, or make you feel uncomfortable,” he said. “And I’m not going to lie, I’m scared shitless of this kind of stuff.”

“I am, too,” Winry confessed, quietly.

The closeness of his skin sticking to hers gave them the satisfaction they sought for too long. There was no more conversation, just embracing, and they were okay with it.

Ever since Winry became self-aware of her feelings for him, she wondered what kind of lover Ed would be. His personality could be so brash. He put up a ten foot wall so he wouldn’t have to face the affections of those who loved him. He definitely wasn’t romantic, nor did he have grace when confronted with the subject. Despite all of these things, she came to discover that, as a lover, he was surprisingly sweet. Maybe it wasn’t too much a surprise; she was one of the few people that could see he was just as much a softie as his brother behind that rough exterior.

Winry held onto the back of his neck, guiding him to follow her as she lied on her back. Bangs drooping over the sides of his face, Ed kept his eyes keen on hers. Her feminine face hooked him in. Her blonde eyebrows were lowered, her cheeks rosy, smiling in a way that transferred her sense of calm certainty to him. They wanted each other, tonight, right now.

As he landed her lips onto hers, his mind left the scene. After the Promised Day, his life had become disturbingly peaceful. Sure, he had gotten into some skirmishes in his travels West, but nothing to the level he and his brother experienced looking for the Philosopher’s Stone. Life could not be this simple, not after life had spit his face so many times.

It was almost as if it was too good to be true.

 


End file.
